


The Branch in the Whirlwind

by Marorin5



Series: Of Fate and Destiny [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And thinks that Will was a sorcerer, Canon Era, Episode: s02e03 The Nightmare Begins (Merlin), Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, In which Morgana remembers Merlin's best friend Will, Merlin & Morgana Friendship (Merlin), Merlin goes with it, No tunnel grates were destroyed in the making of this story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:48:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28966350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marorin5/pseuds/Marorin5
Summary: Uther is convinced she has been attacked by a sorcerer, but Morgana knows better. It was her; the dreams, the fire. It’s all her. It’s magic. It has to be. And yet, she needs to hear someone say it. That way, it will finally seem real, and not just some cruel fragment of her imagination. She needs a confirmation that she is not going insane. So, when she goes to Gaius but finds Merlin instead, she decides she can trust him to help her. After all, Merlin’s childhood friend Will had magic as well, didn’t he?
Relationships: Merlin & Morgana (Merlin)
Series: Of Fate and Destiny [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2124609
Comments: 8
Kudos: 71





	The Branch in the Whirlwind

**Author's Note:**

> So, I got into Merlin recently—like years after the show ended rip—and I’ve had a lot of fun watching it. My friend Gotrix and I have been talking about the series a lot; mostly about what we wished would have happened. Luckily fanfic exists, so after a lot of ideas and planning, here we are!
> 
> While watching this episode, I had mainly two “issues”. The first one was that everyone forgot about Will. When he died, Arthur thought he was the sorcerer that helped them fight in Ealdor, which means Merlin supposedly grew up being best friends with a sorcerer. Yet this is never explored, in this episode, or ever, really. The second one was the fact I felt that Merlin exploding the grate and basically giving Arthur a trial to follow to the druid camp was pretty much for plot. The man has sneaked in and out of Camelot so many times, and you’re telling me that this time only he decides to make the tunnel’s grate explode? Nah. I don’t buy that. 
> 
> Also, I love Morgana. She really deserved better than what she got. And while her going evil was a pretty interesting choice, I couldn’t help but think it wasn’t really handled well? By the very start of season 3 she’s gone all evil, not any trace of the ‘good’ Morgana she had been before. So we decided to give it a shot with her character arc, and see if we can do her character justice. 
> 
> Some of the dialogue is taken directly from the episode. Special thanks to Gotrix for planning this with me and helping me edit it! And without further ado, hope you all enjoy!

It is magic. Merlin knows it’s magic. He knows Gaius knows as well, and yet, the old man is insistent Morgana can never know. Merlin doesn’t understand. Gaius has been so kind to him; took him in, guided him, helped him figure out his powers, the reason why he’s the way he is. So why won’t he do the same for Morgana? 

Merlin knows Gaius has Morgana’s best interest at heart. The old physician truly believes it would be safer for Morgana to never know she has magic. Gaius was a sorcerer who managed to survive the Great Purge, after all. He knows better than anyone how Uther can be in his war against magic. He may want to protect Morgana from the fear of knowingly having magic in a kingdom where it is banned on pain of death.

But Gaius does not understand, not truly. He understands _part_ of it: the fear of discovery, the paranoia. But he does not know what it is like to be born with a power you did not ask for. To have that power suddenly act without you wanting it to. It is terrifying. Gaius could give up magic when he wanted to. Merlin can’t do that. _Morgana_ probably can’t do it either. At least Merlin has had his magic since birth; he doesn’t know what it is like to live without magic. 

But Morgana does. 

Sure, she has been a seer for a long time now, but those dreams could be explained as just “nightmares”. But now, her magic has started to truly manifest itself just now—a power that suddenly manifested itself in a kingdom that condemns magic. Morgana has known—has _seen_ —first hand Uther’s hatred and his cruelty. It truly is a terrible position to be in. 

His musings are interrupted by Morgana herself. She looks terrible. The usually confident, poised young lady stands in Gaius’s chambers with her nightgown, a look of genuine terror on her face. It’s so unlike her and it breaks Merlin’s heart to see it.

“Is Gaius here?” Her voice sounds shaky, _small._ When has Morgana ever sounded small? 

“Er, no he's not here at the moment. He should be back soon though.”

“I need to speak to him. Where is he?”

“He's gone to see the King.” Merlin can hear Gaius’s warnings to stay out of it in his head, to keep his secret and stay hidden himself. It’s hard, especially since he’s sure he’d be able to help her. “What's wrong? You can trust me, Morgana. You know you can.”

“I'm scared, Merlin. I don't understand anything anymore. I need to know what's happening. Please.”

Merlin almost breaks, but he tries to do what Gaius asked him to and stay out of it. “Gaius will be back soon. He'll be able to help you.”

“He won't. I don't want any more remedies. They won't do any good.” She pauses, and then, “It's magic, Merlin.”

She knows. Of course she does. Merlin can feel his heart racing in his chest. “What?”

“I'm your friend, you know I wouldn't make this up.” She sounds desperate. Despite himself, he can’t help but be amazed at her bravery to tell someone of her suspicions despite how scared she is. 

“Of course.” He doesn’t know what to say. Gaius told him to stay out of it, but Gaius doesn’t _understand_. He remembers arriving in Camelot feeling like a monster, and he knows that is what Morgana feels like right now. 

“Then you believe me?” she asks, hope and desperation coating her words. “You think it's magic too. You must know. Your friend from Ealdor was a sorcerer, wasn’t he? Surely you can tell if it is magic or not.”

Merlin is confused for a second until he remembers— _Will._ His best friend who died saying he was the sorcerer so that Merlin could come back to Camelot safely. The memory still hurts, even though Will died about a year ago. The first few days after Will died, Merlin had been full of grief and guilt, and he’d focused on his job in order to keep busy. Those days are blurry, to be quite honest, but he does remember Morgana’s condolences and the thoughtful looks she would give him when she thought he wasn’t looking.

“Please, Merlin,” she begs. “I just need to hear someone say it so I don't have to keep feeling like I'm imagining it.”

Merlin’s resolve to obey Gaius breaks. “I…” He hesitates, considers saying something like _I wish there was something I could say_ . But he doesn’t, because there _is_ something he could say. “I’m not sure, but I think it could be.”

Morgana frowns. She somehow looks relieved he did not dismiss her claims yet upset he did not confirm them. “Could?”

“My friend, Will,” he says, trying not to wince at the mention of his friend. “The sorcerer,” he specifies. _I’m sorry, Will. I’m so sorry._ “His magic never acted up like this.” _I hope you understand._

“That doesn’t mean that I don’t have magic,” Morgana insists. 

“I know. That’s why I said it _could_ be. I learned a lot with Will, but I am by no means an expert. That’s why I can’t be sure…” Merlin feels so bad for lying, but he would rather do that than to leave her alone in her predicament when she’s so upset. What’s one more lie for him to tell? 

Morgana still looks stricken. “But what else could it be? It was me. I _know_ it was me.”

“We’ll figure out, Morgana,” Merlin insists. He puts his hands on her shoulders in a comforting gesture and smiles at her. “I won’t leave you alone with this. I promise you that. I will help you.” At the very least, those words are completely true. 

Morgana is uncertain, teary eyed, and scared, but she’s not as upset as she was before, and she manages to give him a small smile. “Thank you, Merlin,” she says softly. “I appreciate it. You’re a good friend.”

Merlin is not quite certain that is true, but he will certainly try to be.

* * *

Morgana feels as if these last few days she’s been standing in the middle of a whirlwind of pure, freezing terror, with nothing to grab onto and hold her ground, nor any light to guide her to safety. However, the conversation with Merlin last night has given her a small branch to which she can hold onto. She’s unable to see if that branch will be strong enough to support her weight during the storm, or if it’s truly a weak one that will break under the pressure, but either way, it is the only thing she has and it soothes her to know Merlin at least is there for her. 

Despite being calmer than she has been in days, she cannot ignore the feeling of anxiousness compressing her chest with unescapable chains. It is not something she is used to. She’s usually confident, strong willed and independent. Now she feels like a shadow of herself; unsure, scared, and feeling like the world can turn on her at any moment. 

She hears a knock on the door and her heart almost stop in her chest—what if they’re guards, what if they know _they know_ and they’ll take her away she’ll _burn she’ll burn she’ll burn_ —but takes a calming breath, reminds herself that is not the case, that she’s confided in no one but Merlin and he won’t turn her in, not when his childhood best friend was a sorcerer as well, and goes to open the door. 

“Gaius asked me to deliver this,” Merlin says when the door opens, showing her a bottle he’s holding in his hand. 

Her heart is racing due to her earlier fear, and despite knowing Merlin is a friend, that he won’t turn her in—if he truly wanted to, then he would have, already—it won’t slow down. “I don't need any potion, thank you. It won’t do any good, not against…” Morgana looks at the door, and gestures Merlin to come in before closing the door. “It won’t do any good against _magic_ ,” she whispers. 

“Do you still think it’s magic?” Merlin asks her softly. 

Morgana feels some anger rise within her. “What else could it be?” she snaps, but then immediately feels bad. Merlin isn’t questioning her because he does not believe her or because he thinks her crazy. If he did, he wouldn’t have considered her idea that she has magic. He’s just trying to understand what she’s going through and why she thinks the way she does. “Sorry. I’ve just… been on edge lately.”

“I understand,” he says, and he sounds genuine. “I realize how frightening all this must be for you. Especially for you.”

A small part of Morgana thinks, _No, you don’t,_ but then she remembers Merlin was raised with a sorcerer in a small village near the border of Camelot. Even though it is legal in other kingdoms—like Essetir—to have magic, Uther’s campaign against magic has crossed over the borders of Camelot, to the point in which it is dangerous to be sorcerer anywhere in the Five Kingdoms and beyond, even if it is not necessarily against the law. Merlin probably lived in fear of his friend being discovered. He looked so terrified when Arthur realized there was a sorcerer in Ealdor.

“Why especially for me?” she asks. It’s a point that calls for her attention. Why does he think she has it worse?

"You're the King's ward,” he explains, almost as if it was obvious, but he’s not being condescending about it. Morgana doesn’t think Merlin has it in him to be condescending with anyone other than when he’s purposely doing it to annoy Arthur. “You know his hatred of magic better than anyone.”

She supposes that is true. “So do you think it’s magic now? Or are you still not sure?”

“Well, _I_ don’t know. But I thought of people who might.”

“Who?” 

“The druids. They help people like you.”

Uther has always said the druids are violent barbarians that try to use their magic to bring down his kingdom, but that is not true. Morgana immediately thinks of that little druid boy they managed to smuggle out. An innocent boy that had not deserved to die. 

Even Arthur doesn’t believe Uther’s claims that druids are evil. She remembers when Arthur returned from raiding that druid camp back when he was fifteen. Arthur never talks about it—he never did, and he always avoids the topic—but she always has noticed how he’d avoid going after druids if he could help it. And he helped to smuggle the druid boy. She would not be surprised if the druids are to be left alone—perhaps even respected—when he’s king. 

Unfortunately, Uther is the king as of now, and he’s the one who sentenced a child to death just for being a druid not too long ago. “None of their kind would dare show their face in Camelot.”

“No,” Merlin agrees. “But I know where you can find them.”

Suddenly, Morgana feels as if a light has shone through the whirlwind that surrounds her; small, not tremendously bright, but still enough to allow to see the branch she’s holding onto. It’s not a flimsy branch. It’s a sturdy one; one that will take more than just a storm to break. 

It’s the first time in days in which she feels she can stand on her own two feet without tumbling.

* * *

When Merlin heard that the consequences of his actions that Gaius warned him of was that _every suspect was to be executed whether they are guilty or not, if Morgana does not return_ , he knew he could not stand there and do nothing. If he did, then he may as well have killed those innocent people himself. 

He was in such a hurry to get to the druid camp as fast as he possibly could, he almost blew off the grate at the end of the tunnel outside the castle ramparts with his magic. But if there’s something he’s realizing today is that he can’t act without thinking of the consequences, and the last thing he needs is something to give Uther Pendragon the idea that magic may be involved once again. So, he used his magic as discreetly as possible and made sure it did not look like the grate was tampered with before running into the forest to look for Morgana. 

_I managed to get to the camp quite quickly, all things considered,_ Merlin muses as he looks around for Morgana. He did stop several times to use his magic to make his trail as difficult to follow as possible. Gaius would be impressed with his caution. _Perhaps Gaius does have a point. He did manage to survive the Great Purge, after all._

Merlin finally finds the tent in which Morgana is in, and feels more relieved than he has been in the last couple hours.

“Merlin!” Morgana exclaims once she sees him enter the tent. “What are you doing here?”

“I've come to take you back to Camelot.”

“Then I'm afraid you've had a wasted journey. I'm never going back.” 

Merlin’s heart sinks. “You have to.”

“Why?” Morgana demands. “You're the one who said I should seek out the druids.”

 _I did. I know I did._ “I never realized what the repercussions would be.”

“What repercussions?” 

“The King thinks you've been kidnapped,” Merlin explains. He hopes Morgana will understand. She was the one who risked everything to save one druid boy; who rode to save his village without being asked to, who always said to _do the right thing and damn the consequences._ Surely she will understand. “He won't stop until you're found. He's arrested dozens of people. He's gonna execute them all.”

“If I return, the same fate awaits me,” Morgana argues. 

“Uther doesn't need to know about this,” he reassures her, hoping that she knows he’s telling the truth. Still, he understands her fear. “I won't tell a soul.”

“I'm sorry,” she says, not sounding sorry at all, not really. Merlin can feel his heart stop. “I'm never going back. These are my people. They're like me. I don't feel so alone here. Do you understand?”

“Better than anyone,” he says, because he does. And yet… “I know you want to stay. I swear, I would never ask you to go back if it wasn’t necessary. But innocent people are going to die,” he insists, hoping she can hear how desperate he is. “I know I was the one who told you to find the druids. I wanted to help you. And I know why you want to stay. But this would have never happened if I had not told you where to find the druids, or if you had not decided to come here. And now… Morgana, if you don’t come back, then we’re basically sending these innocent people to their deaths.”

“ _We’re_ not sending anyone to their deaths,” Morgana says, and she sounds strong and sure of herself; not at all as scared as she has been the last couple of days. Merlin would have been glad if not for the situation they’re in. “Uther is. I understand why you feel guilty, but it is not _our_ fault. Uther is the tyrant that thinks executing people will get him what he wants. He needs to learn it will not.”

Merlin is having a hard time reconciling what Morgana is saying with the woman who cannot stand for Uther hurting innocent people. “But we can save them!” he insists desperately. “I’m not telling you to leave forever, or to never come back here. Just go back long enough for everyone to be saved. They’re _innocents_ , Morgana. They haven’t done anything. This wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for us!”

A stony look crosses Morgana’s face. "It’s Uther’s fault that they’re going to be executed, Merlin. Not your's or mine. There’s nothing we can do. I’m staying here.”

Helplessness fills his every pore. He stares at the woman who he had thought would never let an innocent suffer and yet callously decides she cannot go back and save people. He remembers the dragon warning him Morgana could not be trusted. He refused to believe it. He thought Morgana had a good heart. He still wants to believe that, but Morgana is making it hard to. He can understand the fear she’s going through. He understands better than anyone. But does she truly not feel any amount of guilt for the deaths they’re—admittedly, accidentally—are going to cause? Does she not want to save them?

Aglain, the leader of the druid camp, enters the tent and sees Merlin and Morgana staring at each other. “Who are you?” he asks Merlin. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” Morgana answers, giving the druid a smile. “This is Merlin. He’s my friend. He was the one who told me how to find you.”

“I see,” Aglain says. “I am Aglain, the leader of this camp.”

Merlin forces a smile. “Hello. Sorry for coming into your camp like this.”

“Do not worry about it,” Aglain says. “I can tell you have good intentions. You are welcome here as well.”

“Thank you,” Merlin replies softly. 

There is a small silence. “Well, Merlin,” Morgana starts, “I’d love to say you could stay longer, but you should probably start going back to Camelot before anyone realizes you’re gone. I don’t think Arthur will be too happy with you disappearing like that.”

Anger rises within him. He wants to shake her and ask her why she’s being like this, why won’t she care, but he doesn’t. The anger vanishes quickly though, and all that is left is _disappointment_. There’s so many things he wants to say, but he doesn’t think Morgana will listen. And he doesn’t think it even is about fear anymore. “I thought _you_ of all people would be better than that,” he says, and gets a little bit of satisfaction at seeing her eyes widen, but it’s quickly overshadowed by _guiltfeardisappointment_. “I guess I was wrong.”

He doesn’t wait for a reply as he leaves the tent. He’s failed. Those people are going to die. And despite whatever Morgana may say—while it is true Uther is at fault—it is undeniable they both are at fault as well. They should have known better. Especially him. 

He still doesn’t think he was wrong in helping Morgana. He truly thinks he did the best for her. But he understands, if only a little more, why Gaius was so cautious about it all. If they’d considered the consequences of their actions before acting, maybe this would not be happening. 

_Hello, Emrys,_ a familiar voice greets in his head. 

Merlin whips around and his heart drops. Mordred. The boy destined to kill Arthur. The boy who _will_ kill Arthur. But he’s just a boy. The complicated feelings and emotions he has when seeing Mordred are jarring and he is already quite upset as it is. 

“Hello,” he replies, though it sounds awkward and strained to even his own ears. 

“You seem upset,” Mordred comments, almost in wonder. As if he never thought Merlin could get upset, and is surprised to see it happening. 

Merlin almost barks a laugh, but instead he just manages a tired, bitter smile. There’s no point denying it. “Yeah. You could say that.”

“Mordred,” Aglain calls as he walks toward them, smiling kindly at the boy. “I’m sorry to interrupt your conversation, but I need to speak to Emrys.”

“Okay,” the boy nods. _Goodbye, Emrys,_ he telepathically says before leaving. Merlin feels kind of bad at how easier he breathes when the boy leaves. 

“You know me?” he asks Aglain in surprise. He did ask who he was back in the tent. 

“I do not think there is a druid who would not know who you are," Aglain replies. 

“Right…” Merlin says, awkwardly. He’s not quite sure what to say to that. 

Luckily, Aglain seems to realize that. “You sound uncomfortable with that.”

“Well, I mean… a little? The first time I ever heard someone call me _Emrys_ was when Mordred called me that in Camelot. I asked the Great Dragon and he said that was one of my names. That there is much written about me that I haven’t read.”

“That is true. The story of Emrys and the Once and Future King has been foretold and written about many years ago. Every druid knows the prophecies. It is something we protect with our very lives; something that gives us all hope. I have to ask, however, how much do _you_ know?”

Merlin grimaced. “Not much, honestly. I was a farm boy in Ealdor, and I didn’t even know I had a destiny until I arrived in Camelot and the dragon told me. But let’s say Camelot does not have a lot of information on the matter, since—you know, magic ban. My mentor tries to help me as much as he can, but most of the time it’s just me figuring stuff up as I go."

Aglain looks contemplative. “I will admit that I had assumed Emrys would know the stories and prophecies in which he is part of, but it makes sense that you don’t. If you ever need guidance or have questions, you can always come here.”

Merlin perks up. “Really?”

“Of course. You must know, Emrys, the druids are your allies. If you ever need something from us, or want our help, you only have to ask.”

Despite the mess of emotions he’s feeling because of the entire Morgana situation, hope blossoms in his chest. He’d accepted his destiny, but he could not help but feel trapped. He thinks the dragon has not lied to him, not really, but it is clear that he only cares about his freedom and tried to use him for his own gain. It would be fantastic to have someone other than Gaius and the dragon to go to for help if he ever needs it. “Thank you. Truly."

Aglain smiles at him. “Perhaps that is the true reason you have come here today, Emrys. Perhaps this meeting is something destiny had planned.” His smile fades as his face turns serious. “She does not know, does she?”

“No. She thinks my best friend for Ealdor was a sorcerer, but not that I am. She can’t know. I would love to be honest, really, but I just can’t be sure...” 

“I understand,” Aglain says. “I cannot imagine the burden you must bear. I do have to ask, though… What did you and Morgana talk about, truly? You’re upset, clearly, and so is she. She refused to talk after you left the tent.”

Merlin grimaces. “Uther plans to execute everyone he’s arrested if Morgana does not return. They’re not guilty of anything—they’re only suspects—but Uther doesn’t care. I came to ask Morgana to come back so they could be saved, but…”

“She refuses to go,” Aglain guesses. 

“Yeah. I mean, I understand her fear. I really do. I understand, better than anyone. But she didn’t even think about it. She didn’t sound sorry about those innocent people dying. She said it was Uther’s fault, not hers, or mine, and that there’s nothing she can do. But there _is_! She’s all about standing up for what’s right and defending the innocent, but this time she won’t do anything.”

“Fear can change a person,” Aglain says. “Though… perhaps Morgana has always been like this, and now that she is afraid it is showing. She may have a good heart, and good intentions, but not everyone is selfless, Emrys. Some are less than others.”

“I guess you’re right,” Merlin sighs. He thinks of Gaius’ wariness. He remembers the dragon’s warnings, his claims she can’t be trusted. He wonders if it’s alright for him to be wary, considering everything. “Do you—”

“Merlin?”

Merlin startles and turns around to see Morgana approaching them slowly. “Morgana?” There’s a second in which he panics, thinking she may have overheard, but they were not talking loudly. And if she heard anything… hopefully, it would be nothing too incriminating. But then she realizes how she’s dressed with her own clothes, though she is holding the druid cloak to her chest. “What are you doing here? I thought you were staying.”

“I’m not. I’m leaving with you. To Camelot,” it sounds a bit forced, how she says it, with the slightest hint of fear lacing her words, but she stands her ground. “You were right. There is something I can do about the innocents Uther wants to execute and…” She squares her shoulders and looks at him in the eye. “Sometimes you have to do what’s right and damn the consequences.”

Merlin feels so relieved at hearing her words that he has to resist the urge to go and hug her. He settles for a smile instead. “I’m glad to hear that.”

Morgana turns to Aglain. “Thank you. Truly. For everything.”

Aglain smiles. “It was my pleasure, Morgana. Just remember what I told you. Your magic is not something to be afraid of. It can be a force of good.”

Morgana nods, gives a shaky smile. “Right.” She seems to grow unsure again, but only for a moment. “I know I have no right to ask for this, but in the future, if I wanted to come back…”

“Of course you can come back,” Aglain says. 

Morgana smiles again, and this time it is a hopeful smile. “Thank you.” She looks at Merlin and then back at Aglain. “Both of you. I know now who I really am. And it isn't something to be scared of. Maybe one day people will come to see magic as a force for good.”

“Rest assured, Morgana. The future _will_ be different. There will be a day magic will not be vilified as it is now.”

“I believe that,” Morgana whispers.

* * *

Morgana tells the king that was overwhelmed by everything that was happening and she decided to take a walk in the woods to clear her head. She says she wanted to be alone, which is why she didn’t tell anyone. She didn’t plan on staying long outside, but she was lost in her thoughts and lost track of time. She only realized how long she’d been missing when she ran into Merlin, who was looking for herbs for Gaius, and he told her about how scared they’d all been. 

Uther scolds her for leaving without telling anyone, but he’s so relieved he doesn’t make a big deal out of it as he otherwise would have, and he just hugs her tightly. 

Still, he does not brush aside his suspicions easily, and he almost orders for the prisoners to be executed anyway. It is Arthur—much to her surprise—that argues against it. He’s respectful about it, all proper _my king_ and _sire_ as he reminds Uther of his word that the prisoners would be executed unless she returned to Camelot. 

“The Lady Morgana returned, and according to her own word, she was never kidnapped in the first place,” Arthur says to the king. “Thus, there should be no executions, as you said so yourself. You cannot go back on your word, Father. We don’t know if the prisoners are actually guilty or not. They deserve a fair trial.”

Arthur might be insufferable most of the time, but she’s known for a while now that he is a better man than his father. Uther does not look happy at Arthur’s words—the tyrant would never give a sorcerer, confirmed or not, a fair trial if he could ever help it—and it seems to bring some tension between father and son. In the end, Uther is happy enough about her return that he does not put up much of a fight as he could have and begrudgingly agrees to give the prisoners a fair trial.

On a worse day, he would have just demanded the executions to happen, and everyone else’s thoughts could be damned. Such are the ways of a tyrant.

(She remembers Aglain’s words. That Uther should be _pitied_. She wonders if it is easier to pity him if you do not know him. She watches the tyrant who rules with fear and cares only about himself, the man who believes himself to be right and just and is anything _but_ , and thinks to herself there’s not really anything to pity at all. Why would one pity the monster?) 

Luckily, that is not the case, and the innocents are saved from their execution and to be given a fair trial. Obviously, there is no certainty that Uther will remain _fair_ for the trial, but she knows Arthur at the very least will be. She plans to go see the trials herself, to make sure all innocents go free as they should be. 

Those trials will be a reminder of what almost happened—what _would_ have happened—when she refused to return. It will be a reminder that, by deciding to return, she has saved innocent people that do not deserve to die just because of Uther’s ridiculous hatred and fear. That the enemy is Uther, and she should not lose sight of that. 

Thankfully, she’s always been quite a good actress, and she smiles at Uther as if she’s glad to see him again (she isn’t. She’s glad to see Merlin, Gwen, Gaius, even Arthur. She is not glad to see Uther Pendragon) and leaves the throne room. From there, she goes directly to Gaius’ chambers. Gaius is not there—he was still in the throne room when she left—but Merlin is, which is exactly what she wanted. “Merlin?”

He looks up from the herbs he’s been putting away and turns to her. (He did actually grab some herbs on the way back to make their rouse more believable.) “My Lady?” 

She remembers his disappointed face back at the camp, and her resolve hardens. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I gave you such a hard time, when you’ve only helped me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he replies kindly. Merlin has always been kind. Maybe that’s why he befriends sorcerers like her and Will. Because his kindness allows him to see past the stigma of magic. “I understand you were scared to come back.”

“But it was the right thing. You were right. If I hadn’t come back, they all would have died…”

“But they didn’t,” he points out. “You decided to come back. You saved them.”

“I suppose I did,” she says. 

What she doesn’t say is that she only came back after hearing him tell her, _I thought you of all people would be better than that. I guess I was wrong._

She doesn’t say how it felt to hear the one person she thought—she knew—could trust in Camelot tell her that. To hear the disappointment in his words, see it written in his face. Somehow, it was worse than seeing something such as _fear_ of her magic. She never expected him to fear her, not really; after all, he’d clearly proven he does not fear magic. 

She doesn’t say how, to her, those words sounded like, _You’re just like Uther._ How she thought that, perhaps, his disappointment was due to seeing a trace of that tyrant in herself. She’s known for a while that Uther rules on fear and hatred, that he forsakes the lives of innocents because he is scared of the truth. He believes to be fair and just. He’s _not_. And in her fear, for just a moment, she acted just like Uther would have. 

_I thought_ you _of all people would be better than that. I guess I was wrong. You’re just like Uther._

She doesn’t say it was her being afraid of that very thing being true that motivated her to come back. 

She’s not like Uther. 

She’s not. Uther sentences innocents to death. She saves them. Fear blinded her, just like it does Uther, that is true, but it won’t again. She knows who she is now. She doesn’t have anything to be scared of. She knows who the criminal is, and it’s not her. Not her, not the druids, and not Merlin. She won’t lose sight of that again. 

“I meant what I said at the camp,” she says instead. “And I believe Aglain. Someday, things will be different.” She knows this, because someday Uther Pendragon won’t be around to infect everyone with his hatred. Perhaps then, people will be open to the truth. 

Merlin smiles at her, her friend and confidant and the only person in Camelot she knows for sure she can trust with her secret. He’s her branch during the freezing whirlwind; the one that has helped stand on her two feet once again when she was hopelessly lost and off balance. The branch that, despite how strong the winds have gotten, has not yet broken. 

“Yeah,” he says softly, and she knows he thinks it’s true, too. “They will be.”


End file.
